"Pirates!" children's story by Alice
PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2005 7:17 pm
The ship swayed under Ella's bare feet. She tossed her hair back. It was barely restrained by a handkerchief pulled around her head and tied. Fixing it, she looked in the mirror, thought "pirate," and grinned. The handkerchief belonged to her father, Captain Smithe. Ella and her brother were not usually allowed on Dad's ship when it sailed. It was a strange chain of events which had allowed them on -- Daddy recalled by the Navy while the three of them were traveling, with Mum away at Aunt's, not to mention the mix-up about the tickets and the nanny quitting. Privately Ella thought it had something to do with jam, but she hadn't questioned her brother Sam too closely. The adventure with Dad was too good to question.
Even if they were supposed to beware of pirates.
At the helm, the first mate turned the large wooden wheel. Above, the mast groaned as the ship began to turn.
Maybe they were in sight of land!
With a running leap, Ella took to the rigging. She was glad she'd borrowed one of Sam's loose pants. Without rumply petticoats and decency holding her back, Ella could climb as easily as a monkey.
The sails flapped like noisy seagulls, partly obscuring her view and almost completley blocking all other sound.
"El -- El --" She looked up.
"Over here." Her brother beckoned from the top mast. She looked up at hte top of the bird's nest as she slid down next to him. "Isn't anyone keeping watch?"
"Sailor's mess. I said I'd keep watch. But see..." Sam's light-brown hair rumpled in the wind, as he pushed himself to his feet, clinging with one hand to the rigging.
Ella followed his gaze. "There's a ship coming."
"Yup. Just spotted it. It's flying the American flag, but I figured I better tell Dad anyway. So you keep watch for me up here, will you?"
"Sure." Ella sat downa nd laced her arms through the rigging as Sam disappeared below.
For a long time she watched the ship coming closer, daydreaming about pirates. If only she'd been born a boy, she oculd have been a pirate -- or at least joined the Navy and fought pirates. Sailors and pirates got to have adventures. Nannies never made them sit and embroider for hours, or take French.
She looked down at the ship again. It certainly was closing fast. It was moving like it planned to pull alongside.
Why were there extra guns out, all pointed this way? And -- she looked closer -- there were men, crouching at the edge of the ship, as though waitiing for something...
Pirates! They had to be! "I've got to tell Dad!"
"Hurry -- hurry," yelled the flapping sails as she raced down. She jumped the last few feet and landed with a feet-stinging THUMP.
Even if they were supposed to beware of pirates.
At the helm, the first mate turned the large wooden wheel. Above, the mast groaned as the ship began to turn.
Maybe they were in sight of land!
With a running leap, Ella took to the rigging. She was glad she'd borrowed one of Sam's loose pants. Without rumply petticoats and decency holding her back, Ella could climb as easily as a monkey.
The sails flapped like noisy seagulls, partly obscuring her view and almost completley blocking all other sound.
"El -- El --" She looked up.
"Over here." Her brother beckoned from the top mast. She looked up at hte top of the bird's nest as she slid down next to him. "Isn't anyone keeping watch?"
"Sailor's mess. I said I'd keep watch. But see..." Sam's light-brown hair rumpled in the wind, as he pushed himself to his feet, clinging with one hand to the rigging.
Ella followed his gaze. "There's a ship coming."
"Yup. Just spotted it. It's flying the American flag, but I figured I better tell Dad anyway. So you keep watch for me up here, will you?"
"Sure." Ella sat downa nd laced her arms through the rigging as Sam disappeared below.
For a long time she watched the ship coming closer, daydreaming about pirates. If only she'd been born a boy, she oculd have been a pirate -- or at least joined the Navy and fought pirates. Sailors and pirates got to have adventures. Nannies never made them sit and embroider for hours, or take French.
She looked down at the ship again. It certainly was closing fast. It was moving like it planned to pull alongside.
Why were there extra guns out, all pointed this way? And -- she looked closer -- there were men, crouching at the edge of the ship, as though waitiing for something...
Pirates! They had to be! "I've got to tell Dad!"
"Hurry -- hurry," yelled the flapping sails as she raced down. She jumped the last few feet and landed with a feet-stinging THUMP.